Hope
by Sterling15
Summary: A hunter is killed and her daughter finds Sam and Dean to help her out. Little does she know she's not the only child affected. Humor, angst, love, brotherly bickering, the whole shabang. No slash! The rating is me being paranoid. Mild language.
1. Help me

A/N: So, this is my very first ever fan-fic, and I hope you people like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Dean, Sam, or Supernatural. (Sadly) I do own Hope and Sierra Cohen and the plot.

Ok! Let's get started.

**Chapter 1 - Help **

"Yo, Sam-ay!" Dean called from his spot on the couch, "Go get me some pie!"

Sam rolled his eyes, his hands pausing over the keys on his laptop, "If you want pie, you can get up off your ass and get it yourself."

Dean groaned and rocked forward, standing and turning off the TV. "You suck."

Sam smirked, "I know" Dean opened his mouth to reply, but a knock interrupted his sentence, silencing their bickering. The brothers' ever present paranoia kicked in, Sam pulling Ruby's knife from beside his laptop, and Dean bringing a gun from his waistband. Sidling up carefully beside the motel room door, Dean cracked it open, revealing a dark-haired girl with bright blue eyes, wide open with surprise. She wore a wrinkled black T-shirt, dark straight-leg jeans, and a blue backpack hung from her shoulder.

"Er- Are you Dean Winchester? Or- or Sam?" She stammered, shuffling uncomfortably in his calculating stare.

"Who's asking?" He grunted.

The girl looked ever so slightly hopeful. "My name is Hope. Hope Cohen. Can I come in?"

Dean narrowed his gaze, and jerked his head inside, moving out of the way. Hope skirted around him, keeping her back to the wall. Noticing the knife clutched in Sam's hand, she sighed and brought her hand around her back.

"Woah! Stop." Dean started, taking a hurried step toward the girl. She jumped out of his reach, bringing her hands up, a large knife with a pentagram in the hilt clutched in her right.

"Here," she muttered, holding out the knife to Dean, hilt first. Dean carefully took the knife, handing it to Sam to inspect.

"You're a little young to be a hunter, aren't you?" Sam asked, carefully scraping his nail across the pentagram. Hope sighed, leaning against the wall. The young Winchester looked up from the knife. "How old are you?"

Hope sighed again, rubbing a hand across her face tiredly. "I'll be fifteen next month."

Pacing restlessly, Dean stopped in front of her, "So…. Why are you here?"

Hope crossed the room and sat on the edge of the small sofa, her head clutched in between her hands. "You guys knew my mother. Sierra."

At this, Sam looked up again, "Your mother is Sierra Cohen? She is a great hunter."

"Was. My mother _was_ Sierra Cohen. That's why I'm here. She was murdered last week. And in all the time since then, I've been doing all I can do to find you two."

Looking carefully sympathetic, if a bit angry, Dean came and sat on the coffee table in front of the exhausted teenager. "How about you tell us the whole story?"

_Hope dumped her dinner plate into the sink when she noticed the first neighbor. He was just standing in the middle of the lawn. Settling the chills that erupted across the back of her neck, Hope jerked the window shades shut and finished up her chores. Her mother was in the basement. Hope was never allowed into the basement. Sighing heavily, she dragged the heavy garbage bag out the front door, starting down the stairs when she noticed the nerve-wrecking group gathering outside her house. Abandoning the garbage bag, she raced back inside, slamming and locking the door behind her._

"_Hey, Mom! Get up here," Hope yelled, pounding on the locked door._

"_What is it, Love?" She heard her mother's dreamy reply float up the stairs._

"_It's the neighbors! They- they're just standing out there!"_

_It was silent for a long time before the basement door opened suddenly. "What do you mean?" Her mother asked breathlessly, coming up and locking the door behind her with a key from around her neck._

"_Just c'mere! It's really weird." Hope led her mother to the window, edging the blinds up ever so slightly and screaming when a jet-black eye stared back at her from just outside the window. Jerking her daughter away from the window, Sierra Cohen grabbed two large bottles of water from the back of the fridge and a can of spray paint from a random drawer. _

"_Any one of them comes through that door before I'm finished, you throw this water on them, alright?" without waiting for her daughter's answer, the panicked woman set about spraying a complex-looking design into the carpet. As she was shaking the can, the first neighbor burst through the front door, causing Hope to scream again. Ignoring the terrified girl, the black-eyed man made a bee-line for her mother. Sierra jumped up and unlocked the basement door, tearing off the key from around her neck and tossing it down the stairs. "When this is over, you _have _to find the Winchesters!" at that, the lovely woman pushed her daughter down the stairs and slammed the door._

Brushing tears from her cheeks, Hope shuddered, "After that, all I heard were screams. I wanted to go back up, but I couldn't find the key after she threw it. I found…." Hope shuddered again, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest, "I found a box. With a red sticky note attached to it. It said: For Hope."

_It had been quiet for almost an hour. Hope picked up the box with the note scrawled in her mother's handwriting. Lifting the lid, she found a knife, a bottle of water, and a necklace with a single bead on it. Removing them each one by one, Hope uncovers a letter. Opening the yellow envelope, she began to read:_

_**My Dearest Hope,**_

_** I'm so sorry that you're reading this. Because that means I'm gone. Given my way, you would never have to know about this world in which I live, for it is a world of monsters and fear. When you were five, you feared the monsters under the bed. I told you monsters aren't real. Sweetie, I lied. I wanted to shield you from the supernatural horrors that plague the world. Take the items from this box and run. Keep the bead on at all times. NEVER take it off. It will protect you in a way I was unable to. The bottle is filled with Holy Water. Don't drink it. The knife is one of the only things that you can use to protect yourself against this world. I love you, my sweet Hope. One last thing, find the Winchesters. They will be able to help you. They will be able to tell you more. They can kind of be difficult to locate, so if you're unable, find Bobby Singer. **_

_** Love you more than life, Mummy.**_

Hope sighed, pulling the beaded necklace out from under her shirt. "The water's all gone. I was attacked on my way here."

"Listen, kid, I'm really sorry about your mom, but what is it you want us to do?" Dean asked.

Hope looked up from her lap and regarded him darkly. "I want your help killing the bastard that killed my mother. Since you two are kind of celebrities in the hunting world, I figured you could help."

Sam looked at Dean with his puppy-dog eyes, making Dean groan, "can we at least get pie on the way?"

Alright, so it's pretty short, but oh well. Chapter two will probably be longer. ;) Please review! Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. 3


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter was way hard to write. My muse was being stubborn. -_- Hope you like it. **

**And I decided that it's set in the 4****th**** season, before Cas is really involved.**

**Chapter 2**

Hope slouched in the backseat of the impala, twiddling her thumbs as Dean drove the Impala Bobby Singer's home. "Hey, guys? What's Bobby like?"

"Well," Dean started, "He's a hunter."

She rolled her eyes, "Okay, but what's he like?"

"If he decides he can trust you, then he's nice," Sam told her consolingly, "Don't worry, we're almost there."

She sighed, slouching deeper into the seat. Rubbing her eyes, she yawned, "Well, wake me up when we get there….HOLY HELL!" She screeched, seeing the black-haired man sitting next to her.

"Hell is far from holy, child," He told her gruffly.

"Hey, Cas! What brings you here today?" Dean asked cheerfully.

"The girl's mother's killer isn't just any old demon. It's Abaddon," Cas said, leaning his head back on the seat. Hope huffed internally. _ 'No need to act like I'm not here, creepy magic man,' _she thought to herself.

"Wait," she said, sitting forward, fully awake. "The demon Abaddon? As in…. 'The destroyer'? He possessed freakin Mr. Johnson, and that guy's about as boring as you get."

Cas nodded, "Yes. Kyle Robert Johnson was involved with satanic worship. I say he got what he was asking for. Anyway, I'll be back with more information." With the subtle flutter of wings, he was gone.

"Er…" Hope said, glancing in between the brothers and the seat where the blue-eyed man had been sitting, "Who was thaaaaat?"

**~this to show time passing. none of my damn symbols were working~**

"Alright!" Dean exclaimed as he pulled up to Bobby's house, "been a while since we've seen the old man!"

Grunting, she dragged her uncooperative body out of the car, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. As Sam and Dean walked up the porch, Hope lagged back, her stomach full of butterflies. Did he know her mother personally, or was he a simply a distant connection?

"C'mon, Hope!" Sam called back. Just as she came up behind the brothers, the worn front door swung open, revealing a scruffy man in a ball cap.

Grunting good-naturedly, Bobby turned and walked back into his house, leaving the door open for the boys. Just as Hope stepped inside, Bobby returned with two beers.

"Oh my god," he said, stopping in the entryway. "Sierra?"

Well that answered whether he knew her mom or not…. But maybe she should make sure. "You knew my mom?"

Bobby shoved the beers into Dean's hands and enveloped the startled teenager in a bear hug. "Sorry, kid. Last time I saw you, you were 2 years old."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. "Bobby. I think you're scaring her."

They were half right. About a million thoughts were running through her head, whether to hug back, hold still, or edge away, what?

Before she could decide on a reaction, He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets, and his hard mask coming back on. "Git in here." Turning his back on them, he trudged into the study, settling down in the chair behind his desk. Hope glanced at Sam.

"Does that count as him liking me?"

**~Another time passer~**

Bobby sighed and shifted his hat, running a hand over his bald head. "I'm sorry to hear about your mom. She was a great woman."

Hope nodded her thanks, gently appreciative for his caring. She was leaning against the dresser while Dean and Sam sat in the chairs in front of the desk.

"Cas said that the demon responsible is Abaddon," Sam said carefully. "And Hope wants our help ganking him."

Bobby groaned, tilting his chair back. "That aint gonna be easy. We've gotta be careful with this one. That means no "lone-wolfing" it, alright?"

"We?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Bobby glared right on back. "Yes, we. Sierra was a friend."

Suddenly Hope was overcome with an overwhelming wave of affection and ran around the desk, hugged the man tightly. Bobby patted her hand, looking mildly pleased with himself.

Suddenly, Castiel appeared behind the brothers, causing all of us to jump.

"Dammit, Cas!" Dean grunted, "Not cool."

Castiel regarded him coolly, "my apologies."

"You here for a reason, Castiel?" Bobby asked irritably. Hope figured the hunter didn't really like the angel. Dean had explained Castiel's connection with the little group of hunters.

"This case of yours intrigues me," the blue-eyed angel shrugged. This hit a nerve in Hope. Her anger flared and she surged up into Castiel's face.

"Intriguing? Is that all that my mother's murder is? You feel curious? God," she said with a final shake of her head, storming out the front door and plopping herself down on the porch steps. Feeling all the stress, fear, and grief of the past few weeks catch up to her, tears began cascading down Hope's cheeks. Her mother was dead. Her mother- her rock- was dead and she was alone in the world.

As sobs wracked her body, Hope didn't hear the door swing open and closed behind her. She felt the gentle hand on her back, though.

"It's okay to cry, you know," Bobby said quietly, sitting next to her on the step, his hand moving in small, comforting circles. "I know how it feels to lose a loved one to this world. It's how we all get started. It will be okay."

Against all her proud, independent-young-woman notions, Hope turned her face into the scruffy man's shoulder, wetting his flannel with her tears.

"Ssh," he murmured softly, wrapping his arms around her in a cautious hug.

After she had cried herself out, Hope wiped her eyes and sighed. "Sorry about that," she muttered.

Bobby chuckled good-naturedly, the long-ago affection for his friend's daughter worm itself back into his tightly wound heart. "Let's get back inside and see what the boys are up to."

Hope smiled thankfully and followed her new-found friend back into the old house.

**A/N: Hm. Even shorter than the first chapter. What the hell, brain? **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, so i had a sudden spurt of inspiration. Yay! Yup. -EDIT- Fricken FanFiction wouldn't let me upload until now. What the hell was going on?**

**Disclaimer: I only own Hope, Joshua, Tim and the Hummers.**

When Hope and Bobby walked back into the house, they were met with the sight of Sam and Dean shoving weapons into a pair of duffel bags.

Glancing up, Dean said, "you alright, Kid?"

Hope rubbed her eye self-consciously, "I'm fine. What's going on?"

"We've got a lead. A woman in Utah was murdered last night… She had a son that has gone missing, and when the cops got there, they found a stash of hunter's gear in a locked study. We're going there now."

Hope stared. They couldn't possibly think that they were leaving her behind. "Well, I'm coming too!"

The three men before her simply stared until Bobby spoke up, "Hell no."

"_Why not?_ This son of a bi-"

"Language," Bobby interrupted.

Huffing out a breath, Hope continued, "His _demon_ killed my mother. Now he's killed this boy's mother. I want to help."

"You can help by staying here!"

Rubbing a temple, Hope thought of another argument. "How old is the boy?"

Turning back to his laptop, Sam answered, "Er… Joshua Ramon. He's….. 7."

Smirking triumphantly, Hope knew that she had found her in. "Imagine how this little boy is feeling. He just saw his mother murdered and now he's on the run. How do you think he'd feel if three strange men suddenly showed up to take him away? A little freaked, no?"

Sam and Dean exchanged an amused smile as Bobby spluttered his unhappy consent.

**/H/**

An hour later, the four rescuers were on the road, Sam and Dean in the Impala, following Bobby and Hope in the old hunter's Frankenstein of a car.

"So what's the plan once we get there?" Hope asked conversationally.

"We just have to do our best to find that boy…. Can I ask you a question?" Bobby seemed nervous and awkward, which surprised Hope. He didn't seem like the sort of person to beat around the bush. "How was your mom? Before this all started, I mean."

Leaning back into her seat, Hope thought back. Back before her mother had died. Smiling fondly, she answered, "She was amazing. The greatest mother I could ever have. She could recognize something very small about a person. Oh! Like this one time…" Hope sat forward, crossing her legs and becoming very animated. She told Bobby of the little Old Russian man that nobody could understand, so her mother acted as a translator. Hope recounted story after story to her mother's old friend as the sun began to set. A large yawn interrupted Hope's reenactment of when her mother had saved a woman from being mugged while Hope waited in a clothing store.

Bobby chuckled as the teenager curled up in her seat, eyes drooping closed. Suddenly, she sat forward, trying to stay awake. "You know what? I think…. I think she talked about you all the time. She… she used to say an old friend taught her. Taught her how to fix a car, how to cook bacon to perfection, how to fight. I think she meant you." At that, Hope's consciousness took a dive into the blissful darkness of sleep, leaving Bobby with a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Like he had swallowed a pink kitten.

**/H/**

"Hey, Hope. Wake up. We're in Utah. We're stopping at a motel for the night." Hope grunted as the soft voice intruded into her consciousness. She registered that someone was attempting to wake her, and she wasn't too pleased about it.

"I don't wanna go to school, Mom." She muttered aimlessly.

There was a chuckle, followed by, "Dude, she just called you mom. You're being too nice. Move."

Suddenly there was a sharp, uncomfortable jab to her side. "Ungh!" she grunted, and threw a fist toward the open car door.

"God! Ow!"

Sighing, Hope climbed out of the car and was met with Dean clutching his nose. Eyes wide, she rushed to him. "Are you okay? Did I do that? I'm so so so so so so sorry!" Hope didn't know how to beg his forgiveness. These guys were trying to help her, and here she was breaking their noses.

Dean held up a resigned hand, stopping her apologies. "It's fine." At that, he jerked his hands, setting the cartilage. That was followed by a long stream of profanities.

Chuckling, Sam took Hope's and Dean's arms and led them into the motel, where Bobby was already at the front desk, getting their room key.

Bobby raised an eyebrow at Dean's purpling nose and Hope's guilty expression before letting out an amused grunt.

**/H/**

While in the shower the next morning, Hope rolled her achy shoulders, sore from the hours in the car the day before. Letting the hot water pound her shoulders, she sighed. What the hell was she doing? On the road with three men she barely knew, on the hunt of a demon. A freaking _demon._ Hope sighed and finished her shower, dressing in skinny jeans and an oversized grey t shirt. Comfort is a necessity.

After everyone had showered, they were back on the road. Hope sighed and turned on Bobby's disk player, and her ears were immediately slammed with Adele's "Rolling in the Deep". She gave Bobby a questioning smirk.

Shrugging, Bobby kept his eyes toward the road, "I like her spunk."

Hope grinned and sat back, letting the powerful song wash over her. As the song ended, Hope turned the music down, turning back to Bobby. "So, do we have a plan yet?"

"While you were sleeping, we talked about that. Apparently the boy had a friend who lived next door. He was home alone when Ms. Ramon was murdered, and they've got him sitting with a shrink, under the impression that the boy has lost it. He says that the mother was killed by 'The spawn of hell'."

Hope cocked an eyebrow, "That's a mighty big description for a 7 year old boy."

Bobby nodded absently. "According to the authorities, the entire family is very religious, which will either make our job much easier or much harder."

Sighing, Hope slouched deeper into the leather seats, rubbing her eyes wearily. Bobby glanced at her momentarily, clearing his throat, "How are you dealing?"

"Just dealing I guess," she muttered, shrugging her sore shoulders. Groaning, she reached a hand over her shoulder to massage the enflamed muscles.

Bobby looked concerned, "You alright?"

Hope smiled weakly and sat back, shifting uncomfortably. "I will be. How much farther is there to drive?"

Nodding out the window to the suburban area, Bobby grunted, "We're here."

**/H/**

Rolling her shoulders as she climbed out of the car, Hope regarded the house. It was a plain and rather boring brown, as were many of the homes around here.

"So what's our cover?"

Bobby watched her with laughing eyes. "Our cover?" When she simply looked back at him, he chuckled and finished, "Our cover is just old family friends. Sam and Dean will be coming back later as FBI."

Hope nodded, and the pair walked up the steps. Bobby knocked on the dark brown door and then stepped back, just as a kindly-looking elderly man opened the door, and standing beside him was the stereotypical grandma. Curly white hair and sweaters.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Hummer?" Bobby asked, his entire demeanor changing from a gruff badass who hunts demons to a sad and grieving man, looking for his friend's only connection.

The old couple allowed Bobby and Hope inside, calling their grandson down when they learned of their "connections" to the victim. Tim sat at the end of the couch, not making eye contact and not speaking. Bobby immersed the grandparents in a deep, albeit rather boring, conversation, allowing Hope to study the boy.

"Hello, Tim. My name is Hope. You knew my cousin Josh?" she asked, hoping against hope for the boy to open up.

The child looked up at her with eyes far too wise for his age, and Hope knew that this boy has been through more than she could imagine. "We were best friends. Until the demons carried him off. My grandparents think I'm a nutter. They raised me this way. I'm not a nutter. I'M NOT!" He yelled suddenly, jumping to his feet.

Hope started, working to keep her face straight and emotionless. "I know you're not a nutter, Tim. I completely believe you. Believe me." She smiled in a way that she hoped was reassuring.

Apparently it was, because the traumatized boy sat back down, tucking his knees up to his chest.

Thinking, Hope asked quietly, "when the demons carried him off, did you see anything? Did they use a car, or did they walk a certain way?"

Tim shook his head tightly, looking at her with glistening eyes, "They just disappeared into the air. They took Joshua. They took him because he's different."

"Different how, Tim?"

Glancing furtively at his grandparents, the boy muttered, "He didn't believe the way we do, but I know. I know it. The demons took him because of it. They did, they did."

Hope fixed him with a stare. "How was Joshua different?"

Shuffling across the small space that separated them, the small boy whispered in her ear, "Joshua was an angel."

**A/N: Ooh, cliffhanger, whut? Don't worry. Joshua's not a Castiel-type angel. Remember that little Timmy was raised very religiously. :) Please review! Loves!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Whoo! Can I get three cheers for inspiration? :D YAY!**

**Disclaimer: I only own Hope, Tim, Joshua, and the Vegrandis Pennae legend.**

Hope stared at the Tim, giving a long blink before whispering back, "an angel?"

Nodding earnestly, the boy walked backwards until he fell back on the couch. Pouting slightly, he added, "But he can't fly. _That_ would have been _awesome._"

Glancing at Bobby to see if he had heard, she realized that Bobby had been completely immersed in the conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Hummer. Widening her eyes slightly, he got the hint and closed on the subject, promising to be back if they heard anything.

As soon as they got back in the car, Bobby jumped into what the grandparents had told him, but Hope wasn't listening. Interrupting whatever he was telling her, she muttered, "Tim said that Josh was an angel."

Looking at her with incredulous eyes, Bobby asked, "Don't you think Castiel would have mentioned something about a 7 year old boy being a vessel?"

Hope shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Ya think we can get in touch with him?"

Bobby snorted out a laugh. "Sure. Soon as I invite Aphrodite to tea."

**/H/**

"So the Hummers officially think that the FBI has lost its marbles," Dean announced as he and Sam walked into the motel room. "And little Timmy wouldn't say a word to us. What'd you two find out?"

Hope grimaced from her place at the small table, her hands pausing over the keys of Sam's laptop. "Well, Tim talked to me…"

The brothers stared at her expectantly.

Hope decided to just say it. "Tim said… he said that Joshua is an _angel_. But I've been researching legends and lore, and I've found nothing. I highly doubt that Joshua is an _actual_ angel, because, well, how in the world would Tim know? Plus he wouldn't still be living with his mother." With a huff of frustration, Hope climbed up from the uncomfortable motel chair and rolled her head, stretching her sore neck muscles.

Sam went over and took her recently abandoned chair and started tapping away rapidly at the keys while Dean yanked off the stupid tie he was forced to wear.

**/H/**

Hope groaned loudly as she sat up the next morning, her back and lower ribs sore. _Ugh. Fricking motel mattresses,_ she thought to herself. Rubbing her pained ribs absently, her eyes widened at the smell that met her nose. Fresh coffee. And not the crappy motel stuff, either. It was coffee from that adorable little shop down the street. Current early-morning exhaustion forgotten, she ran for the caffeine-filled cup of deliciousness, practically inhaling it.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Hope jumped and choked as searing hot coffee went down the wrong tube of her throat. Dean ran-walked up and snatched the now half-empty cup of coffee out of her hands, looking very much like a sulking kid who didn't like sharing his rocking horse.

Breathing deeply through her nose, Hope gasped out, "Well, I didn't see your name on it."

Narrowing his eyes at her, he half-turned the cup to show _Marcus Jenson_ scribbled in sharpie and underneath that a phone number. Hope chuckled. "She wrote her number?"

Looking rather pleased with himself, Dean smiled and said, "Yep. And God was she smokin'."

Hope rolled her eyes and fished around her bag for some clean clothes. "Where are Sam and Bobby?"

"Getting some real food. I was still asleep." He tossed a crumpled note at her. Unfolding it, she read,

_Dean, _

_Don't let anyone into the room. Not even the pretty coffee lady. Bobby and I will be back with your cheeseburger soon._

Laughing out loud this time, Hope crumpled the note and tossed it on the ground. "I love how he writes to you like you're a kid."

Dean glared at her, but Hope could see the humor dancing in his eyes. Jumping up with an innocent smirk and an armful of clothing, she danced off the take a shower.

**/H/**

After her shower, Hope was dressing in front of the mirror. The hot water had done nothing for her aching muscles. Arching her back and twisting side to side, she looked at her ribs in the mirror. Nothing out of the ordinary. Her back was a different story. Looking over her shoulder in the mirror to view her back, she gasped. Two symmetrical and purpling bruises were forming side by side between her shoulder blades. "_What the fu-..."_

A knock interrupted her shocked cussing and Bobby's voice rang through the small bathroom. "You almost done in there? We've got some information."

It took a moment for Hope to find her voice. "Err- uhm… yeah. I'm about to come out."

There was silence on the other side. Hope though that maybe Bobby had left, but just then he answered, "Alright."

**/H/**

Five minutes later, Hope was dressed and sitting on one of the small beds, her damp hair dripping onto her pale green t-shirt. Dean sat across from her on his bed, munching on a burger wrapped in greasy wax paper.

"So. What'd you guys find out?"

Sam turned in his chair. "I have a theory. Tim's family is highly religious, right? Well, wouldn't he view a boy with a pair of bird wings as an angel?"

When met with three blank stares, he shook his head and turned back to his computer, pulling up a tab, and started reading.

"_The _ _Vegrandis Pennae is a legendary creature from Ancient Rome. Half bird and half human, and the distribution of each part vary between creatures. Some would be all bird with a human head, and feet, when others would have human bodies with simple wings. The bird attributes would begin to appear on a child between the ages of 3 and 10, and when they began to show, the child would be seen as a deity. Worshiped and waited upon hand and foot."_

Sitting forward, Hope said, "So you think that Joshua is a Vangrandim Pentey?"

Smiling slightly, Sam corrected her. "Vegrandis Pennae. And yeah. So far it seems like the most likely conclusion."

"Why would demons go after an extinct species?" Bobby asked.

Sam shrugged, "No idea."

"Yeah, and why the hell would they kill my mother? I was in the basement, so I don't know if they would have taken me like they did Joshua, but I'm almost 15, so I'm definitely not a Veggie Taler… Am I?"

Sam rolled his eyes at her sarcastic replacement for the Vegrandis Pennae. "I highly doubt it, but nothing is impossible."

Taking a drink of his coffee, Dean chuckled, "Maybe you're a late bloomer."

Hope rolled her eyes and chose to ignore him, trying not to think of her bruises. "Anyway, we still have to find him. Have you heard anything?"

Sam shook his head, clicking away absently.

**/H/**

That night Hope begged Bobby to let her go for a drive.

"C'mon, Bobby! I know how to drive! I had to steal my mum's car when…. Anyway, I know how, and I'm sick of being stuck in this damn motel!"

Sam was sitting at the table and Dean was on a bed, both drinking a beer and looking hugely amused. The teenager and their surrogate father had been going at it for about an hour.

"You're only fourteen, kiddo. You're not going anywhere."

Fixing Bobby with a stare, she asked, "Dean, how old were you when you learned to drive?"

Eyes widening in panic, Dean held his hands up defensively, "I am not getting involved."

"Just let me go! I'll be back before midnight. I've got my knife, I'll be perfectly fine!" Hope's face was red with anger, all directed at the hunter standing in between her and the door.

Sighing his defeat, Bobby moved about a foot to the left. "Fine. But you get a scratch on my car; you get to clean my junkyard."

Hope stared at him, horrified. "But that's an impossible job."

Bobby smiled and tossed her the keys. Hope ran out the door.

**/H/**

Being completely alone for the first time in ages, Hope found herself truly relaxing. Turning up the radio, she bobbed her head with the beat of "Highway to Hell". She drove aimlessly for an hour before stopping at a Pizza Hut and ordering two large pepperoni pizzas. Heavenly aroma filling the car, Hope was driving back towards the motel when she saw a small black mass huddled behind a dumpster in an alley. Her protective instinct kicked in. Pulling over to the side of the road, she clutched her knife and crept around the edge of the alley. "Hello? Is somebody in there?"

When nobody answered, Hope turned back to Bobby's car, her knife dropping to her side. Then she heard it. A quiet, muffled sobbing of a terrified child.

Bracing her back against the disgusting wall, she used her legs to shove the dumpster with all her might. Once there was enough room, Hope crawled back and gently placed a hand on the child's shoulder. "Joshua? Are you Joshua Ramon?"

The child looked up at her with tear-filled, bright yellow eyes. Then he slouched down against her, unconscious.

**Oh noes! Poor kiddo! Reviews = LOVE!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Whoo! Okay, so... this is where I'm starting to get nervous about where the story is going and how readers will accept it. *fingers crossed* **

**I don't own Supernatural. :(**

Hope drove with a fury. Turning corners on two wheels, running stop signs, and stopping with skidding tires. It was a miracle she didn't get pulled over by the cops, but she had no choice. The little boy she had tucked into the back seat was sick.

Finally at the motel, she stopped the car, shoving the keys into her pocket and pulling the small boy into her arms. She threw her back against the motel room door, yelling inside, "Guys! Let me in!"

"Didn't you take a…" Bobby froze when he saw the limp child in her arms. Shoving past him, Hope carefully set him on her bed. She pulled off the boy's jacket and her own before pulling him onto her lap, cradling him. "I was driving back and I saw him behind a dumpster. I- I think it's Joshua. He reacted to the name, but he could just be…. Hey!" she exclaimed as he opened his small eyes. Brushing his black fringe out of his eyes, she stroked his cheek. "Are you Joshua?" He blinked his bright eyes slowly before nodding once. Hope smiled, relieved. "Hi, sweetie. My name is Hope. Are you hungry?" Joshua nodded again.

"Er… we don't have any food," Dean muttered.

Hope glanced up at him. "There are two pizzas out in Bobby's car." Dean was gone in a flash.

Joshua squirmed slightly, and Hope helped him sit up. Then she gasped. The boy's face was covered in scratches. "What happened to you?"

The child sniffled. Lowering her voice, Hope tried again. "Joshua? Can you… can you please tell me what happened?"

His lip trembled. He was terrified. The girl was so nice, but so was the other girl at first. The girl with the black eyes.

"Joshua, I promise we won't hurt you."

He looked up at the man. He was standing a few feet away and he was very tall. He _looked_ like he was telling the truth…

"The girl with the black eyes hurt my mommy," Joshua muttered quietly. "She said that I wouldn't get hurt if I didn't scream. But I was so scared." Tears began leaking out of the corners of his golden eyes. "I screamed for my mommy and she scratched me." Hope wanted to run out and strangle the demon herself, but the boy looked like he just needed to get it out. "Her friends locked me in a little room. It was dark, but I could still see. Then she- she said she was gonna take them." Joshua sniffled. "So at night, I snuck out of the room. All the lights were off, so they couldn't see me."

Dean entered quietly and set the pizzas on the table. "What was she gonna take, kiddo?"

Still sniffling, the child mumbled something incomprehensible. Hope suddenly felt something moving beneath her hand. Reaching his hands up, Joshua tugged off his t-shirt, revealing two beautiful, white wings speckled with black spots. He snuggled up against Hope, his nose in the crook of her neck. "You smell like my mommy." At that, the traumatized child fell asleep.

**/H/**

"Well, now I see why Tim said that he's an angel," Bobby muttered, leaning against the counter.

"Did you hear what he said? 'The girl with the black eyes hurt my mother'? For some reason the demons wanted him. What the hell? I just don't get it. Why are they so interested? They have nothing to do with demon/angel mythology." Hope said as she ate a piece of the pizza.

Joshua mumbled something in his sleep and Hope was by his side in an instant, leaving the three hunters to talk. "Joshua? You alright, sweetheart?"

Bright yellow eyes fluttering open, they fixed on Hope's blue ones. "You're like me," He whispered. "I can smell it. Did they hurt your mommy too?"

Blinking back tears, Hope nodded. "Yes…. What do you mean I'm like you?"

Now he looked confused. Reaching a hand behind her, he pressed on the bruises on her back. Then he smiled at her angelically.

**/H/**

The next morning Hope awoke to the sounds of whooshing air and fluttering wings. She groaned, sitting up and being met with the sight of Castiel standing in the middle of the room. Bobby, Sam, and Dean were already awake, sitting at the table and talking over cold pizza. Joshua was still asleep beside her.

"You all must leave…" Castiel stopped, staring at Hope.

Looking uncomfortable, Hope shifted awkwardly. "What?"

Gathering his thoughts, Castiel continued, "There are demons on their way. They are coming for Hope and Joshua." Then he disappeared. Three heartbeats passed, and then the motel room was a flurry of movement. Bobby gathering randomly placed weapons, Sam gathering duffels and Dean grabbing any talismans for wards they had set up. Hope turned and shook Joshua awake and tossed his shirt to him, pausing to watch as his wings folded themselves against his back as he tugged the shirt on. Pulling a jacket over the sweats she slept in, she grabbed her duffel with one hand and Joshua's hand with the other. "C'mon, sweetie."

Running out to the car lot, Joshua held tight to Hope's hand. Climbing into their respective cars, the little band tore out of the lot. Hope let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Twisting in her seat, she asked, "You alright?" to Joshua, who had settled himself into the back seat of Bobby's Chevelle.

Eyes wide, he nodded. "Why did we have to leave so quick?"

"An angel friend of ours stopped by and warned us that demons were coming for you." Hope sighed, resting her cheek against her chair. "I'll help you get cleaned up once we stop. You want something to eat?"

When he nodded, Hope gestured to a McDonalds they were driving by. "Can you pull in there for a second?" Once through the drive-thru, they were back on the road, Hope munching on a large fry, and Joshua eating a mcnugget kid's meal. Drinking his coffee, Bobby talked on his cell phone for most of the ride to the next motel. After their second pit stop (Bathroom, coffee, junk food) Hope sat in the back with Joshua, and they proceeded to entertain each other with any car game they could think of. They managed to spend an entire hour playing rock-paper-scissors before Joshua dropped off to sleep, his head in Hope's lap.

Hope ran her fingers through the boy's dark hair absently. As she thought about what was happening, she realized that she was terrified. So… was she going to have wings too? That would explain the bruising on her back, and Joshua seemed pretty convinced. Would her eye color change? She tried to think of different attributes birds had. _Please God, don't let me have a beak._ She shook her head, horrified by that thought. At least wings can be covered by a shirt. Besides that wings were pretty badass. Hope sighed, leaning her head back on the headrest, eyes drooping closed. _God, I'm tired..._

**/H/**

"Hope? C'mon, kid, wake up."

Hope groaned, rubbing her cheek and sitting forward. "Hmm? What's up?" She turned her head to see Bobby standing just outside the door, silhouetted by the car lot streetlamp.

"We're at the next motel. Joshua's still asleep, but you're too old to be carried in." He winked.

Sighing, Hope clamored out of the chevelle, stumbling slightly. "Where'r my bags?" she mumbled.

Bobby smiled slightly, chuckling. "They're in the room. Now c'mon, you can go back to sleep once we get inside." Leaning into him for support, the two made their way to the motel room, being met with an equally-exhausted-looking Sam at the door. Stumbling through the door, Hope plopped down on one of the beds beside Joshua.

**/H/**

_I'm sitting in a dark room, huddled in a corner with my knees tucked up to my chest. Where am I? I was just in a motel room with everybody. I turned to look at the wall to my right. There's a girl with platinum blonde hair standing there. She looks about my age... One of the girls who would be considered "perfect" at school. She has black eyes._

"_Wh- who are y- you?" I stutter, hating how my voice shakes. It's just so damn cold. _

_The girl smiles coldly. "I am Abaddon. Do you have any idea who you are?" she crouches in front of me, reaching out a hand to brush my cheek. I slap it away, jumping to my feet._

"_Get the hell away from me!"_

_Abaddon smiles cruelly, and suddenly there was a large machete-like knife in her hand. "You have no power here. Although, it's not like you have power anywhere else. You simply surround yourself with people to use as shields. Your mother for example."_

_Tears begin to well up in my eyes. She's right. My mother didn't have to die. If I just hadn't gotten her from the basement, she would have been fine. All of this is my fault, I realize with an irrational wave of pure guilt. I drop to my knees as I feel all my fight give out. _

"_You're just a worthless piece of trash," Abaddon continues, "You are nothing. We are coming for you and little Joshie. Maybe not tonight, but we will find you eventually." Junging forward, she jabs the knife toward my face, but I roll out of the way. I scream. I'm so damn scared. Why did this have to happen to me? _

"_Please! Please don't!" The tears are running down my face now, sobs wrenching themselves from my chest, and when I see the knife coming down to plunge itself into my back, I don't fight. I let the pain come. _

**/H/**

"HOPE! WAKE UP!" Bobby shakes her shoulders as she sobs, eyes screwed shut. Hope's eyes fly open and she stares at him, unable to communicate to him what just happened. She looks across the room. Sam is holding Joshua, who's eyes are wide with confusion. Dean is sitting at the table, looking sad and tired.

Suddenly the feeling of the knife penetrating her back washes over her again and she cringes, curling in on herself, trying to protect herself from the pain. "NO! PLEASE STOP! _PLEASE!_"

"Bobby! We have to get her to be quiet or we'll have the cops here in minutes!" Sam says worriedly.

"Hope? Sweetheart, what's happening? Why are you screaming?" Bobby asks, beginning to panic.

Hope looks up at him as the pain ebbs. "She- she just kept stabbing over and- AAH!" she screamed again, another wave of excruciating pain radiating through her body. Blood began pooling on the motel bed sheets.

"What the hell?" Bobby yelled, rolling her over onto her stomach to reveal her back drenched in blood. Joshua ran over and tugged her shirt off, leaving her in a blood-soaked tank top, revealing her bloody skin. In the center of the barely discernable bruises two white _things_ were shoving themselves up through her skin.

"Her wings are coming in," Joshua said quietly, eerily calm now that he knew what was happening.

"But- she's too old to be a bird-dude," Dean argues.

Joshua nodded solemnly, looking far to wise for his age. "Which is why it is so painful for her. They have been developing beneath her skin, and there's just not enough room for them inside her anymore."

Bobby motioned for Sam and Dean to join him beside the bed. "Gimme a hand here." Following Bobby's careful instructions, the three gently wrapped Hope in the sheets from the bed and carried her into the bathroom, gently laying her in the tub. Hope writhed in pain, choken sobs escaping her throat as big hot tears ran down her face.

"I'm worried about her losing too much blood," Sam muttered to Bobby, who was seated on the toilet lid beside the bathtub, gently stroking Hope's hair.

"She'll be okay. If not I'm O-Negative," Bobby answered quietly.

Hope was lying on her side, with her back towards the wall, sobbing quietly. Over the next hour Joshua brought in a few pillows to support her head. When Bobby left to get a cup of coffee, Joshua took his seat. Taking Hope's hand, he began to sing.

_This one goes out to the man who mines for miracles__  
__This one goes out the ones in need__  
__This one goes out to the sinner and the cynical__  
__This ain't about no apology__  
__This road was paved by the hopeless and the hungry__  
__This road was paved by the winds of change__  
__Walking beside the guilty and the innocent__  
__How will you raise your hand when they call your name?_

_Yea, Yea, Yea__  
__We weren't born to follow__  
__Come on and get up off your knees__  
__When life is a bitter pill to swallow__  
__You gotta hold on to what you believe__  
__Believe that the sun will shine tomorrow__  
__And that saints and sinners bleed__  
__We weren't born to follow__  
__You gotta stand up for what you believe__  
__Let me hear you say__  
__Yea, Yea, Yea, Oh, Yea…._

**Aw, little Joshie being all touching. Please review! constructive criticism and suggestions are wonderfully welcome!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Glad to have FF back to normal. :) **

**Charles: SHE OWNS NOTHING EXCEPT HOPE AND JOSHIE!**

**Me: I own your ass.**

**Charles: Crap.**

**Okay, onto chapter six! (I can't believe I've actually gotten this far... usually I lose all inspiration within a week. :D )**

The next morning, Bobby woke from a restless sleep. Glancing over, he saw everyone else in the motel room to be asleep. His eyes fell on Hope's bloody bed, and the previous night's events all came back to him. Old bones protesting, he launched himself from the small couch and ran to the bathroom, hitting Sam and Dean on his way to wake them. His eyes widened at the sight that met him. He hadn't noticed before the blood that coated the walls. Seeing Hope's still, bloody body lying in the bathtub, he ran forward, kneeling in front of the teenager. She was dead.

Face emotionless and pale, bloody hands limp…. Wait. No. Her eyelids fluttered. "Hope? Are- Are you there?" His voice cracked and his eyes teared up as her eyes flickered open, bright blue standing out among all the red.

"Bobby?" Reaching up a blood-coated hand, she cupped his cheek. "What's wrong?"

Chuckling out a relived sob, he clutched at her outstretched hand. "I thought you died. Do… Do you remember what happened last night?"

Her eyebrows drew together as she tried to think back. Then her eyes widened and filled with tears as the memories from the previous night flooded back. "I- I was bleeding. It hurt so much. Joshua held my hand and sang to me until the pain went away."

Grimacing, Hope twisted, attempting to get out of the uncomfortable bathtub, reaching out her hands for help. Sam and Dean both reached forward and helped her stand, while Bobby placed a gently hand on her shoulder. Then Joshua piped up.

"Are they sore?"

She stared at him for a few moments before realizing what he was talking about. Twisting her neck, she looked over her shoulder to reveal two blood-soaked wings. "Oh my God."

"Well, move them! If you don't, they'll be useless pieces of muscle and feather," Joshua instructed sternly.

Despite her discomfort, Hope found the strength to roll her eyes. "Bossy, bossy." Then the wings moved, stretching out to about 18 inches. They were very small. Hope's eyebrows scrunched up, "It's really weird. It's like telling your finger to move. It's just…. Natural."

Obviously weirded out by the whole thing, Bobby moved out of the small bathroom, calling back, "I'll go get you some coffee."

Sighing heavily, Hope sat down on the edge of the bathtub, wings hanging down limply by her sides. "Can you guys step out so I can shower? Do my best to get all this blood off me?"

Patting her head, Dean walked out, followed by Sam and Joshua. Carefully peeling off her blood-saturated tank and sweatpants, Hope turned on the hot water. She just stood there enjoying the feeling of being cleansed; water running down her back and through her feathers. _Hm. My feathers. I've got feathers. That's just weird._ Then she set to scrubbing. Grabbing the scrubber, she rubbed her skin until it was raw, using her nails to scrape through dried blood on her face. When her skin was relatively blood free, she reached a hand around and gently combed her fingers through the feathers on her right wing, feeling blood come loose and wash down the drain in the hot water.

Suddenly the water started running cold and Hope yelped in surprise, "Eep!" grinning, she jumped out of the shower, long hair flinging water all over the small bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, she studied her reflection. There were small specks of blood here and there speckling her skin, and her hair was completely clear (probably thanks to the 10 times she washed it with shampoo). Taking a deep breath, Hope turned a few inches to the right, revealing her small wings. Now clear of blood, she could see that they were the tan, brown and white of barn owl wings. Grey speckling covered the parts closest to her body and the undersides were white with the occasional black dots. Giggling, she made them flap slowly. "Damn, that's cool!" then looking around the bathroom, "Oh, crap. Er…. Hello?"

Dean answered back, "You alright?"

Sighing, Hope replied, "Yeah… Can you bring me some shorts and a tank from my bag?"

The door cracked and Dean's hand shot through, waving around wildly. Chuckling, Hope snatched the bundle of clothes from his hands. Laying them out on a fairly clean and dry part of the counter, she wrapped her hair in a towel. Glancing at her clothes, she saw that Dean had grabbed her knee-length jean shorts and a loose white tank top. Laughing quietly, she also saw that he had been forced to handle her delicates. She dressed carefully, being especially cautious of her still-sensitive wings. When she exited the bathroom, she was met with a much more awake-looking Bobby and the smell of coffee. She felt her wings stir excitedly.

"Well?" Bobby asked as soon as he saw her. "Lemme see 'em!"

Feeling self-conscious, Hope spun in a small circle, wings shifting awkwardly. She combed her fingers through her still-damp hair, blushing slightly. "I'll have to get some looser shirts."

**/H/**

Later that day after a rather long research session, trying to learn more about what the demons were up to, Joshua was passed out on the couch, Sam had the 'Ive-been-in-front-of-the-computer-too-long' stare, Bobby was rubbing his eyes and groaning, Dean was staring out the window blankly and Hope was experimenting with her new appendages. She noticed that when she was agitated, they would shift around (like a nervous twitch), and when housekeeping had scared them, her wings had fluffed up defensively.

Thinking back to her awful dream, she realized that she had no idea how to fight demons. Her mother had taught her to deal with the odd bully, which was common thanks to her not-so-skinny body-type, but never how to fight with something that had super-strength or speed.

"Uhm… Hey, Dean?"

Turning from his vigil, Dean appraised her thoughtful expression. "What's up?"

"Will you…. Will you teach me how to fight demons?" fidgeting quietly, she was seated on the end of her and Joshua's bed.

The prospect of doing something other than research made Dean's eyes light up. "Of course!" Looking around, he clapped his hands together. "Help me move some things around." So he, Sam, and Bobby set about turning beds, shoving tables and sticking chairs in corners. When they had a respectable space in the middle of the floor, Bobby, Sam, and Joshua sat back to watch the fireworks.

Shedding his flannel, Dean rolled his shoulders and gestured to Hope. "Okay. Take a swing."

Looking at him uncertainly, Hope launched her fist toward his jaw, only to be met with his palm.

"You'll have to do better than that- OH!" He doubled over as Hope slugged her other fist into his gut, grinning triumphantly. Rubbing his stomach ruefully he shot a glare at the three on the beds, who were laughing loudly. "Okay, so you can throw a punch. Now, with demons you've gotta be tricky with weapons. C'mere." Turning away from the smiling bird-mutant, he dug through a duffel bag, coming up with an old, rusty, very dull knife. Tying a rag around the blade, he handed it to Hope hilt-first. "So. Attack me now."

Studying his posture, she thought she should strike low. So she lunged forward, jabbing the covered blade toward his stomach. But the second the tip touched his t-shirt, she found herself pinned on her knees, facing away from Dean and the knife spinning across the floor.

"How the hell did you do that?"

Smirking he let her up, then demonstrated how he crossed his hands, and twisted his wrists to relieve her of the knife.

"Okay. Now you try," he said, spinning the old knife in a loop before lunging at her. As he rushed toward her, Hope felt a spurt of adrenaline rush through her body, wings spreading out slightly for balance. Crossing her thumbs like he showed her, she wrapped her hands around his wrist and jumped as high as she could, scrambling on top of him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Then throwing her weight forward, she set off his center of balance and sent them both tumbling to the floor. She struggled to get to her feet, but found herself pinned underneath Dean's heavily muscled body.

"Crap. Er…. I'm stuck," she mumbled.

Chuckling, Dean helped her to her feet. "Well, that was spontaneous. Okay, let's go again."

**/H/**

Hope was sitting cross-legged on the bed across from Joshua, both giggling as they played a version of mirrors with their wings. Joshua's white and black ones would move a certain way, and Hope would have to move her own the same way. It was Sam's idea to build muscle control in her wings.

Eyes scrunched up in concentration, Hope struggled to hold her small wings above her head.

"C'mon, Hope! You can do it!" Joshua cheered as he raised his own effortlessly.

Grunting, Hope let her wings fall down and slumped forward onto her stomach dramatically. "It _burns!_"

Laughing, Joshua jumped off the bed, pulling his t-shirt back on as the exhausted teenager pushed herself up, brown wings folding themselves against her back.

"When do you think Sam will be back?" Joshua asked her as she came up behind him. Hope smiled inwardly. Ever since Sam had bought the boy a shirt with a Velociraptor on it (which happened to be feathered) he had seemed to worship him. If Sam was cleaning his .45, Joshua was right there with him, watching every little thing he did. If Sam was doing research, Joshua was there with a large book struggling to comprehend the old wording.

"Not sure. He and Dean went out to find out more about whoever's after us."

"Where's Bobby?"

At his question, Hope paused. She had no idea. Just then, Bobby himself walked into the motel room.

"Hello, children."

Heading toward a cushie-looking chair, Hope stopped cold. That wasn't like Bobby. Bobby is short, gruff, and to the point. He doesn't waste time with _"Hello, children."_

Remembering what Bobby had taught her before; she decided to turn his own trick on him. Taking Joshua's hand nonchalantly, Hope turned and popped the cap off of a beer and handed it to Bobby. Nodding to her he took a drink, all the while Hope walking backwards slowly, keeping Joshua close.

Suddenly, Bobby's mouth started smoking and he screamed. His eyes turned black.

Yanking Joshua backwards, the two minors fell backwards onto their bed as Bobby threw down the Holy water-infused beer and stalked toward them.

"Uhm..." Hope muttered, "Oh, shit."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: I only own Hope and Joshua.**

Heart thumping loudly in her ribcage, Hope struggled to think of what to do. There was a thick ring of salt lining the edge of their bed, but if they couldn't get to a phone, Sam and Dean would be walking into a trap.

"Hope? What's wrong with Bobby?" Joshua whispered, terrified out of his mind.

"It's not Bobby, kiddo. It's a demon controlling his body, okay? Whatever happens, it's **NOT** Bobby. You hear me?"

Joshua nodded mutely just as Bobby ran at them with a silver blade, launching to a halt once he reached the salt line. Hope forced a bitter smile to her face. "Hiyah. You want salt with that?"

Bobby growled quietly, giving Hope the best death-stare ever. Remembering something they'd done at a few motels, Hope started moving around the bed, her wings puffed up for balance, casting an eerie shadow over her blue tank top. Running her fingers lightly along the side of the mattress, she found what she was looking for. Reaching a hand inside a small hole, she pulled out her knife. Spinning it in her hand in a fighting stance, she turned back to face Bobby. Did she have the guts to stab him if it came to it? Glancing at the winged boy huddled against the headboard of the bed, her face hardened. She had to protect her small friend.

"Listen up, you grimy bastard," Hope declared, looking into Not-Bobby's eyes. "Get the hell out of my friend, or I'll slice you to ribbons."

The demon possessing the wizened hunter chuckled, sending pins and needles up Hope's spine. "You won't, actually. Because Bobby is still awake in here, bless… well, _damn_ his little soul. His mind is reeling, and I can't wait to use him to kill you precious little pieces of flesh. Let him know how it feels to kill a child."

Hope felt bile rising up in her throat, but forced it down. Relaxing her fighting stance, she realized she had no chance of getting to a phone. Suddenly, she jumped as Joshua poked her leg. Turning to face him, she saw him point to the open motel room window. He whistled softly, and a black starling flew in and landed next to him on the bed.

Joshua climbed up and whispered in Hope's ear as Not-Bobby paced the end of the bed, glaring daggers. "Peel the grip on your knife off."

Dumbstruck, Hope did as he instructed, peeling off the leather with the pentagram etched into it. Handing him the long strip of leather and her knife, Hope watched as the boy cut the leather and tied it to the starling's leg. Whistling once more, Joshua sent the starling whizzing back out the grimy window.

"You can talk to 'em?" Hope asked, slightly awed.

Joshua nodded, glancing nervously at the demon. "Some don't listen, though."

**/H/**

A half-hour later, Hope sat cross-legged with Joshua in her lap, watching Not-Bobby as he sat on the edge of a bed. Suddenly the well-loved purr of the Impala's engine pierced the strained quiet of the motel room. Smirking, Not-Bobby crouched beside the door. Adrenaline began pumping through her limbs.

As the door knob began to turn, Hope yelled, "Door left! It's not Bobby!" and leapt off the bed and ran to Dean's, gathering his duffel in her arms. She barely made it back onto her bed before Not-Bobby was right there, glaring daggers.

"Hey, demon scum!" Suddenly Dean and Sam were standing directly behind Not-Bobby, Dean with the colt and Sam with Ruby's knife. "Hope, get the Spray out of the bag and draw out a trap."

Kissing Joshua's head reassuringly, Hope flipped through a book until she found the page where a devil's trap was drawn out. Pulling out a bottle of black spray paint, she set to work drawing out the trap in the center of the room while Sam and Dean held Not-Bobby at gun/knife-point. When she was finished, Hope dragged a chair to the center. Taking Not-Bobby roughly by the shoulder, Dean sat him down in the middle of the chair. Hope sat back on her bed with Joshua.

"Okay, let's start with the easy questions," Dean started, pacing back and forth in front of Not-Bobby. "What's your name, and why did you come here?"

With an eye-roll that was distinctly un-Bobby-like, the demon smirked, "My name is Vetis. And I came here for them." He pointed at Hope and Joshua. "Preferably the girl, but we're not picky." As soon as he said his name, Hope was flipping through the book again.

"Vetis," she said aloud, "The demon of corruption?"

Vetis smirked and splayed his hands out from his body, "What can I say? I like soiling perfection." He cocked an eyebrow at Hope, who grimaced at his implications.

"Hey hey hey. Eyes on me, Perv." Dean turned Vetis's head with the nozzle of the colt. If looks could kill, Vetis would be a bubbling puddle on the floor.

Sighing dramatically, Vetis rolled his eyes. "Okay." He sits forward, "I'm bored. I work for Abaddon. She's after these kids cuz their father killed her… _lover._"

Hope looked at him with wide eyes. "Our- our father? Wait. So, Josh and I are brother and sister?"

Vetis looked at her incredulously. "Seriously? Don't you see the resemblance? Of course, if little Joshie's eyes hadn't changed, they'd be blue." Hope wrapped her arm tightly around Joshua's shoulders.

Sniffing, Dean took the book from Hope and handed it to Sam. "You know what, I'm done. Sam, get this son of a bitch out of Bobby."

**A/N: Okay, so…. I'm sorry this is so short; it was REALLY hard to spit out. And Aw! SIBLINGSES! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!**


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